


To The Wolves I'm Thrown

by Mnemoli



Series: Rogue Variable Side Stories [1]
Category: Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blame Lanius he's a Dick, Children of Characters, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Legion is Scattered, Legion-Aligned Courier, Lust, Post-Fallout: New Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-12-25 21:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemoli/pseuds/Mnemoli
Summary: Kestrel Davis, de facto leader of a small raider gang, tries to carve a foothold for her people in the Commonwealth. Preston Garvey, second-in-command of the Minutemen, has other ideas.It's best to read this between the first two parts of "The Rogue Variable," but it's not required.The title of this piece comes from the song “Wolves” by Aviators. I don't own it, but go give it a listen on Youtube before you read this, if you’d like! (I prefer the acoustic version, myself.) I modeled Kestrel heavily off of the song, which is fun because it's about Fallout in the first place.





	1. Chapter 1

 

As the sun rose over the Commonwealth, a small band of raiders made their way towards the settlement of Tenpines Bluff, circling the farming community on three sides from the woods. Crude spears glinted in the hands of some, while others grasped swords in strong, practiced hands. Only one crept forward with a firearm, a small pearl-handled 9mm pistol clutched in her left hand. The woman turned as a twig snapped behind her, her grey eyes narrowed in annoyance at the sound.

She sighed as her eyes met a pair of wide blue ones. A young girl, no older than four or five, crouched behind her, a crude dagger in the child’s hand. Her dark brown hair was braided, tucked into a tight coil behind her head. The girl gulped nervously as the woman frowned at her.

“I told you to wait back at camp,” the woman hissed.

“But, mater,” the small girl replied, “I can fight, too.”

“Absolutely not,” the woman whispered. “We’ve talked about this, Ren. You’re going to give away our position.” Just then, a cry came from the other side of the settlement, followed by gunfire. “Shit!” she hissed. It was too late. The skirmish was already underway.

“Ren, stay here,” the woman ordered. “Silent and invisible, just like daddy taught you.”

The little girl nodded, crouching behind a thicket, her dappled gray cloak obscuring her form. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

“Foxes!” bellowed the woman, her gray eyes ablaze, “to me! And a slow and painful death to the man who gave up our position!”

She charged into the fray, bronze hair flowing behind her as she ran, her gun drawn as she picked her targets. Tenpines was supposed to be a small farming community, an easy target. But that had been a lie, she realized as a dozen well-armed militiamen poured from the main building, quickly overwhelming her men. Word was obviously getting around about their raids on other settlements. But how had they known that her band was hitting Tenpines next? They’d been so careful, had leaked alternate targets during their last raid.

“Drop the gun,” growled a rich voice from behind her. She turned slowly, her hands raised in defeat. Staring at her with rage in his dark brown eyes was a minuteman, the stripes on his duster marking him as an officer of some type. He held a large laser musket, its barrel pointed directly at her head. The man nodded to another beside him, who kicked her knees out from under her. The woman howled in pain as the second man bound her wrists, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Now then,” the first man continued. “How about you tell me where you come from? Raiders around here know better than to steal from the Minutemen, so you must be new.”

“I’m not telling you shit,” the woman retorted, spitting at his feet.

The man frowned. “I really think you should. You’re at quite a disadvantage, you know,” he continued as a man dressed in crude camouflage approached, a squirming child in his grasp. The young girl growled angrily, desperately trying to bite the man’s arm off.

“Renata?” cried the woman, her eyes suddenly wide with fear. “Ren, honey, are you ok?” She turned back to her captor. “Do whatever you want with me, but let my daughter go. She’s...she’s innocent. God, she’s just a little girl.”

The man sighed, waving a hand at the girl’s captor. “I thought I told you to be gentle, Graves.”

“I was tryin’, sir,” the camouflaged man retorted, “but this li’l wildcat wanted to play rough. She stabbed me, sir. Ain’t deep, but it smarts like no one’s business.”

“Good girl,” the woman said, drawing the girl’s frightened gaze with a reassuring smile. “You’re ok, honey. Just relax. These men know I’ll kill them if they hurt you. Isn’t that right?”

“No one’s going to hurt anyone else,” the officer said with a heavy sigh. “We’d have preferred not to have roughed you up at all. You’re the ones who keep going after our settlements and stealing from the people we protect.”

“You should just kill us and be done with it,” the woman replied. “We’d have done worse if we’d captured you, and I’m sure you know it.”

The man nodded. “Your people are ruthless, I’ll give you that. But I’m not looking to kill anyone, not today. Instead, I’ve got an offer for you that I think you’ll find interesting.”

She frowned. “Like I believe that. What could you possibly offer us that would be worth this kind of hassle?”

He smiled calmly at her. “Let’s start with names, shall we? I’m Colonel Preston Garvey. And you are…?”

 

* * *

 

 **Near** **ly Six Years Prior, Somewhere in the Eastern Mojave:**

_The brutal desert heat of the Mojave had given away to the chill only a desert night could know, the dusty air settling to cool sands under a moon that seemed impossibly large in the sky. Torches popped and sizzled in their stands, the smell of smoke and pinyon pitch filling the air. A few worn tents dotted the landscape of the small canyon, barely illuminated by the torchlight. It was an excellent location for a secret camp, isolated and difficult to reach. It had taken the pair of newcomers the better part of the evening to make her way there._

_The young woman who stood defiantly in the center of the frumentarii remnant’s camp was known by many names. She had been born as Kestrel Davis, daughter to long-forgotten parents. When she struck out on her own, she had taken the title of Courier Six, one of the Mojave Express’ most trusted messengers. And in happier days, before the great breaking of the Legion, she was known as Kestrel Inhumata, the Unburied. But those days, like the man who had thus named her, were gone, lost to the cruel machinations of fate._

_In spite of everything the Legion had accomplished, Hoover Dam had been lost only a matter of months after it had been claimed. Whether it had been the capture of the Courier by the NCR or the internal power struggles within the Legion, Caesar’s troops had been brutally and swiftly defeated, the man himself slain. Legate Lanius had taken his place as the new leader of the faction, and had almost immediately turned on anyone he saw as a potential rival, convinced that one or more of them had betrayed Caesar. Those men he feared either were massacred or fled into the night, their loyal followers in tow._

_The foremost of Lanius’ enemies approached Kes now, his intense blue eyes bright with curiosity. He stood a full head taller than the courier, lean yet imposing in the way only an apex predator could be. She trembled under his gaze, but would not give him the satisfaction of her fear. The NCR trooper next to her was less disciplined, his green eyes wide in terror as he whimpered softly._

_“The NCR must be mocking me,” Vulpes Inculta mused, “sending a woman as their representative. Especially one with such a...colorful history with the Legion. How much did they offer you to bring me in, Courier? It must have been a lot more than just your freedom for you to risk your life coming here under the sign of the Bear.”_

_Kes frowned. “I’m not here for the money, whatever you may think of me. I’m here to offer you a deal.”_

_“A deal? What could a disloyal profligate like you offer us that would be worth more than the pleasure of finally seeing your body lashed to a cross?”_

_“General Oliver said that if you help them depose Lanius, the NCR will allow the remaining legionaries safe passage back east. You’re not going to get a better offer than that, Vulpes.”_

_His lapis eyes sparked with interest. “Lanius? They’re really more worried about him than they are about me?” Vulpes shook his head. “No, this is a trap. I’ve set too many of my own over the years to not recognize one so obvious.” He gave a curt nod, and Kes found herself surrounded._

_“You’re going to kill me?” she asked coldly. “Really? Come on, Vulpes. You’re better than this. You and I both know that will only provoke the NCR further. They’ll never stop hunting you.”_

_Vulpes smiled, an icy grin. “How do you kill someone who’s already dead, Inhumata? You can drop the pretense now. Why did you agree to come here? I know you have no love of the NCR, or you never would have joined the Legion in the first place. You’re a bitch if I’ve ever met one, but you’re no man’s dog.”_

_Kes snorted, pulling her pistol free of its holster. The NCR trooper accompanying her didn’t even have time to react before his body hit the cold desert sand, lifeless. “Damn straight,” she replied. I came to warn you. I overheard the General as I was leaving. They sent another courier to Lanius, offering the same deal. And a map to this location. Your den of foxes has a rat, Vulpes.”_

_The spymaster thought for a moment, his mouth drawn in a hard line. “Well, the NCR are smarter than I gave them credit for, it seems. Still, they weren’t smart enough to send someone else to entrap me,” he sighed. “So disappointing.”_

_The courier nodded. “It was a difficult assignment, and I’m afraid it cost us dearly. But it seems that the NCR finally believes they’ve broken me. I should be able to move freely, at least for now.”_

_“A Pyrrhic victory is still a victory,” Vulpes offered. “Well done, Kestrel. Welcome home.”_

_He waved off the guards, his intense gaze ravenous and calculating as he approached her. Kes shuddered slightly as his fingers traced her cheekbone, descending slowly to her neck. Even after all this time, she still was never quite certain if he was going to kiss her or strangle her when he touched her like this. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was certain either. But that was part of the thrill, she supposed._

_Kestrel gasped as his lips claimed hers, forceful and all-consuming. As cold as his demeanor was, his hunger was anything but. She was intoxicated, her willpower siphoned away by the onslaught of his kiss. There was no room for love between them, only fire, but that suited both of them just fine. Neither of them were cut out for such soft things as romance._

_Finally, he released her before wordlessly walking into his tent. He didn’t have to ask her to follow. After all, the night was their time, and dawn was still far off._

* * *

 

“My name is Kestrel Davis,” the woman snarled, her grey eyes cold and feral. “Remember it, because it’s the name of the woman who will kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Inhumata/Inhumatus is Latin for "Unburied," which seemed like an appropriate title for Caesar to honor the Courier with, given the whole being basically undead thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preston offers Kestrel a way out. She remembers the day she first began to trust Vulpes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: Near-Rape Situation, Assault. Read at your own risk.**

“Kill me?” Preston asked, smiling slightly. “Honestly, at this point, I’d kind of like to see you try. See, ever since we first started getting reports of your activities along the western border of the Commonwealth, we’ve been planning for something like this. I assure you, my men have thought of everything. You’re trapped, Miss Davis. Now are you going to listen to my offer, or would you rather we just kill you and your friends like we usually do to raiders who attack our settlements?”

Kes stared up at the Colonel with defiant eyes. “I’m going to get out of these ropes. And when I do, I’m going to butcher every last one of you.”

“No,” Preston replied. “I don’t think you will. I’ve dealt with raiders before, ma’am. And no offence, but you’re no raider. I don’t know what your story is, but whatever brought you here isn’t going to be solved by you destroying settlements. All that’s going to do is lead to more death. What I’m offering you is a chance at a new life, working for me. For the Minutemen.”

“Interesting,” Kestrel said, her curiosity piqued. “So you capture me, scare my daughter, and now you want to, what, offer me a job? Why the hell would I ever work for you?”

“Well, honestly, it’s probably your best option. If you agree to work for the Minutemen, and promise to uphold our laws, we can protect you. Protect that kid of yours. Hell, if your people are willing to work hard and build something rather than tearing things apart, we could help you make a home here in the Commonwealth.”

Kes frowned. “No offense, but I’ve been down this road before. The last people who promised us our freedom turned on us. There’s no going back. Not for any of us. Everything we fought to build, all our allies, our families...it’s all gone. Freedom’s the only thing any of us have left to fight for. So as tempting as your offer is, I have to decline, unless you have some way of proving your good faith.”

Preston thought for a moment. “What would it take to get you to trust me, Miss Davis?” he asked.

 

* * *

  

**Six Years Prior, Freeside, New Vegas**

_Kestrel cried out in alarm as a large hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her head against the muscular chest of her assailant. She did her best to get the attention of her companion, but Arcade was too busy waxing poetic about the excess of the Strip and the plight of Freeside to notice as she was dragged away into one of the abandoned buildings that dotted the squatter’s district._

_Kes reached for her gun, eyes widening in panic as she grasped at air. Her heart clenched as she realized that there was nothing she could do to save herself. All her other weapons were out of reach, tucked safely away in the Lucky 38. After all, she and Arcade had just been dropping off supplies at the Followers camp, and her pistol was more than enough to take down the thugs that usually harassed visitors to the seedier part of town. Besides, she had Arcade the surprisingly well-armed doctor with her. How was she supposed to know that he’d be too distracted to help her?_

_The man pulled her into a small, windowless room, bare save for a filthy mattress and a dog bowl full of what appeared to be well-aged vomit. He dragged her, still protesting, towards the bed. Kes had to do something, she realized.  The man holding her yelped in pain as she bit down on the fleshy part of his hand, stomping roughly on his foot at the same time. His grip loosened just a little, and she did her best to wiggle free from his grasp. She might have gotten away, too, if it wasn’t for the second man who arrived, blocking the entrance to the small room with his massive form._

_The first man spun her around, slapping her hard enough to send her to the ground, clutching her stinging cheek. “Try that again, and I’ll bash your head in,” he hissed, “bounty be damned.”_

_“Lash! We can’t kill her too soon,” the larger man growled, approaching them slowly. “Are you sure this is the right bitch? She’s smaller than I expected.”_

_“Oh, it’s her all right,” the man called Lash replied. “She was right where that NCR prick said she’d be, right outfit and everything. Hell, she even has that fancy pistol that shithead Benny used to flash around. It’s her, for sure.”_

_The man shook his head. “A shame we’ve gotta let her cook out there. Such a fucking waste of a nice face like that.”_

_Lash nodded. “Yeah. Sure would be a shame, just handing her over without a little fun first.”_

_Kestrel paled, scooting backwards away from the approaching men as they neared her with lascivious eyes. She whimpered as her back collided with the wall far quicker than she’d anticipated. Within moments, they had her pinned to the floor, a knife to her swan-like throat. She stared up at them in defiance._

_“Well, go on and kill me, then,” she hissed. “See what whoever set me up has to say about that.”_

_Lash grabbed a fistful of her hair, using it to slam her head roughly against the floor. She gasped in pain as he kept her head pinned, dragging her back several inches by her hair. “Now, are you going to shut up and cooperate, or am I going to have to get creative?” he roared. “Because I’m willing to take the price cut from delivering you with bits missing, if that’s what it takes.”_

_Kestrel whimpered, nodding slightly as the knife at her throat slid downwards, playing at the collar of her reinforced leather armor. With a swift motion, the larger of the two men sliced the hide open to her navel, taking in the sight of her with greedy mud-brown eyes._

_“Well, would you look at that,” he muttered, slowly stroking a filthy, gnarled hand down her stomach. “Damn.”_

_Kes bit her lower lip, trying to hold back a cry of disgust as the man continued to explore her exposed body with his hands.As horrible as this experience was, she had to stay focused on survival. Revenge could be served out on her attackers, but only if she survived._

_“Good girl,” whispered Lash harshly, smacking her face gently. “You like being touched like this, don’t you?”_

_Kes nodded again, doing her best not to aggravate the situation, and the man laughed, planting a rough kiss on her lips. She recoiled, struggling as the taste of old chems and rotten meat filled her mouth. Still, Lash was relentless, his hand still holding her down by the hair as his teeth dragged over her cheek, heading downwards. The other man was already working on his belt, cursing under his breath as he tried to remove the worn leather strap._

_Kes eased her eyes shut, trying to think of something pleasant, anything to take her away from the situation she found herself in. There was nothing she could do, no one she could rely on. All she could do was hope that they wouldn’t take too long._

_Suddenly, Lash’s grip on her weakened, and she felt hot liquid splatter across her exposed skin. The man groaned, sinking to the floor next to her._

_“Hey, what the fuck?” screamed the other man. “Who the fu--” his voice faded into a sickening gurgle, followed by a loud thump that shook the floor. Before she could react, she felt a warm, wet cloth against her face, wiping gently across her bruised flesh._

_“Are you all right, Courier?” a soft, eerily familiar voice asked. Kes opened her eyes slowly, blinking in confusion at the scene she found herself in._

_Perched above her on his knees was a young man in a brown suit, his intense blue eyes staring unwaveringly back at her. He smiled slightly, easing her into a seated position against the wall. As she looked around, she gasped in horror at the scene. She, the floor, the man before her, everything was covered in blood like an abstract painting. The two men who had attacked her were savagely torn apart, nearly completely dismembered. She whimpered in horror, pulling the remnants of her armor over her blood-drenched skin._

_“I suppose that’s a no,” the man continued softly, holding the cloth out to her. “It’s not much, but try to clean yourself off. I’ll be just outside if you need anything further. No one else will hurt you, I promise.”_

_Kestrel stared at him, too shocked by the whole ordeal to respond. He stood with a low groan, picking up a machete from beside him before exiting the room. After a few moments, she resumed cleaning herself as best as she could, trying to stay busy so as not to think too much about what had almost happened to her._

_Eventually, her skin rubbed nearly raw, she broke down, sobbing into her knees as she sat curled up on the floor, surrounded by the remains of her assailants. No matter how hard she scrubbed, she could still feel the touch of their hands, polluting her body. She felt helpless, worthless, ashamed. She was supposed to be a fighter, a hero, if those around her were to be believed. But she hadn’t even been able to protect herself. How could anyone else ever rely on her?_

_“Courier?” the man called, his voice muffled by the door between them. “May I come in?”_

_“Y-yeah,” she managed between sobs._

_The door opened slowly, and the man returned, approaching her with his hands open at his sides. The machete was sheathed on his hip, visible but not threatening. Every movement, every step he made was gentle, calm, and open._

_Kestrel looked up at him, her eyes bleary from crying. “Why did you come here?” she asked softly._

_The man smiled slightly again, crouching a few feet away, his eyes level with hers. “I noticed that you were in trouble,” he replied. “And given your importance to my master’s plans, I thought it best to intervene.”_

_“Your master?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly._

_The man nodded. “I know you are confused, Courier, but surely you recognize me. This isn’t the first time I’ve come to you like this.”_

_She froze as realization sunk in. “Wait. Vulpes Inculta?”_

_“The very same. You’re fortunate that I had business in the area. I apologize for not intervening sooner, but I had to wait until their guard was down.”_

_Kestrel stared at him, confused. “But why help me? I already told you, I’m not interested in helping Caesar, the NCR, or any of the rest of you. I got my revenge, and now I just want to be left alone.”_

_Vulpes sighed. “It amazes me that you still don’t seem to understand what is at stake. I suppose I should have expected as much, given your many vices. Whether you like it or not, Courier, you are at the center of things. The future of New Vegas is in your hands, no matter what you may want. So it is with people of importance. You, Caesar, Mr. House...none of you can run from the destiny before you, no matter how you try. If you do…” he rummaged through the blood-soaked clothes of the larger man, searching for something. “Let’s just say that fate has a way of pulling you back in.”_

_Kes shook her head. “You’re wrong. I killed the man who shot me. I completed my delivery. My part in this story is done.”_

_“Not quite, I’m afraid,” Vulpes replied, extracting a note from the man’s coat pocket, looking it over carefully. “As I suspected. These men were paid to take you to the desert and crucify you. I suppose whoever ordered this had hoped to pin your death on the Legion. It probably would have worked, too,” he mused, offering her the note._

_She held the red-stained paper weakly in her hands, not even glancing at it. “But why?” she asked, her grey eyes locked with his bright blue ones. “Why would blaming the Legion for my death help anyone? Like I said, I’m just a courier. Nothing special.”_

_“It doesn’t matter what you think of yourself,” he replied, looking away from her to root around in his bag. “The fact is, there are a lot of people out there who see you as something more, someone to follow. That makes you either a valuable asset, or incredibly dangerous.” He held out a simple red tunic. “Here,” he offered. “Put this on. I’m afraid your armor is beyond repair. We need to get you out of here, in case there are more people looking for you.”_

_Kestrel eyed him carefully. “How do I know this isn’t just an excuse to slap a collar on me? You could have arranged this whole thing.”_

_Vulpes laughed. “Courier, if I wanted to, there would be easier ways to enslave you. Now please, cover yourself up. I’ll be outside when you’re ready. Just don’t take too long. We have a long way to walk, and much to discuss.” With that, he left the room again._

_Kes sat for a long moment, trying to ease the aching of her skull long enough to think clearly. Vulpes had saved her, that was undeniably true. But she knew enough of the man by reputation and their limited encounters to know that he was a devious, wicked man. There was some bigger game he was playing, that much was certain. But what? What could he possibly want from her to make him act this way? If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he actually cared about her well-being. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? There was no way the man who’d massacred Nipton could care about anyone._

_She sighed, removing the remains of her armor and pulling on the tunic. It was a strange fit, a bit too tight around her breasts and too long for someone of her stature. The cloth smelled of the desert, of strange herbs and pinyon smoke, with just the faintest hint of musk. It was strangely comforting, and made her feel almost safe._

_Kestrel knew she couldn’t trust Vulpes, not really. But knowing that, she realized, she was probably safer with him than with anyone else in the Mojave. As long as she stayed in his good graces, no one would be able to hurt her again._

 

* * *

 

Kestrel snorted, struggling against her bonds, the rope cutting into her wrists. “Trust you? That’s adorable. I’m afraid I don’t trust anyone. Not any more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was pretty hard to write, TBH. I hope it's not too graphic.


	3. Chapter 3

Preston sighed. “Look. I get it. The life you’re living right now...that’s the life of someone with either nothing to lose or too much to lose. And I’m willing to be that in your case, it’s the latter. Are you really willing to risk that freedom you claim to value? I don’t think so.”

Kestrel laughed, a hollow, terrifying sound. “You’re right. But do you really think we’re going to join you? Or that you’ve really beaten us?”

Preston thought for a moment. “You mean you didn’t bring your full force here, right?”

Kestrel nodded. “I’m not an idiot, Colonel. Even now, the rest of my men are preparing to raid your capital...what was it called again? Sanctuary?” She smiled cheekily. “Well, it won’t be a sanctuary for long.”

“How did you…” Preston started to ask, before two men came forward from the woods, their Minuteman uniforms open to reveal simple red tunics. He gasped as he recognized them. “The messengers who told us where you were. Damn it, I should have known.”

“For such a small organization, you really don’t know your own men very well, do you, Colonel?” Kes replied. “That honestly wasn’t even our best work. Now, I have three men already inside Sanctuary. All I have to do is not check in in the next hour, and they will raze it to the ground. Trust me, three of my friends are more than enough for the job, and it’s been a long time since I’ve let them kill anyone.”

“You wouldn’t do it,” Preston said, his eyes boring into hers. “No, you’re bluffing. We’ve captured five of you and your kid. All the witnesses we talked to said there were only seven adults in your group. With these two, you’re all accounted for.”

Kes grinned. “That’s some decent math, Colonel. Really, well done. But you have no idea what you’re up against. Who you’re up against. If we really wanted to, your entire little empire would already be ours. See, we’ve faced far more terrifying enemies than you and your little boys playing at war.”

 

* * *

 

  


**Seven Months Prior, West of Cleveland:**

 

 _“Take Renata and get out of here, Kes!” Vulpes cried, his ripper shrieking a mechanical cry of death and blood in his hand as it tore through the neck of one of Lanius’ legionaries, painting the fearsome_ frumentarius _in crimson. Once again, the men loyal to him were woefully outnumbered, a frequent circumstance. No matter how far east they moved, no matter how cautious they were, somehow Lanius always found them. They were running out of ground to flee to and men to hold back the vengeful tide._

_Still, running wasn’t a tactic Kestrel was interested in, not with such little hope remaining. In her mind, all there was left to do was fight. “What are you talking about?” the courier exclaimed as she charged towards Vulpes, her grey eyes wide in panic as she caught another legionary in the jaw with her machete, carving a large chunk of the man’s face off before felling him. Six men still stood between them, bearing down on her, but she wasn’t about to let anyone stop her._

_Vulpes ran towards her as well, the miniature chainsaw in his hand rending limbs as he went. “You and I both know that there’s too many of them,” he yelled. “I’m the one Lanius is after. He won’t stop until I’m dead, or he would have given up by now. The rest of you still have a chance. Please. Save my men. Save my daughter.”_

_Kes paled. She had never heard the word please from his lips before, and the urgency in his voice frightened her. “Vulpes, no! I’m not leaving you here. Are you fucking crazy?”_

_“No, just pragmatic,” he replied. “Ignatius already knows the protocol. He and the others will get you as far east as they can. I’ll do my best to follow once I’ve gotten them off my trail.”_

_“You’d better,” she growled, slashing wildly as a massive figure bore down on her. The man snarled, rotten teeth bared as his blade met hers._

_“You have my word,” Vulpes replied calmly, disemboweling the man who was attacking her with a thrust of his ripper. “And when in all the time we’ve known each other have I ever gone back on my word?”_

_She smirked. “Well, you haven’t killed me yet. I’m pretty sure that was a promise.”_

_“All the more reason for me to survive,” he mused. “Your death belongs to me,_ Inhumata _. So don’t let any of these lesser men claim it. Leave now.”_

_“Vulpes,” she replied, catching his arm. They stared at each other for a long moment, the cries and horror of battle all around them. Neither one said anything. There was no need. After all the battles they’d fought, every sweat-soaked mile of their journey, they understood each other as completely as either of them had ever been understood by anyone._

“Vale _,” Vulpes said softly, his intense blue eyes commanding her once more to leave._

_“Godspeed,” Kestrel responded, releasing his arm. In a moment, they were parted as Vulpes vanished into the chaotic battleground. Kes wasted no time running in the opposite direction towards the ruined camp. Many of the tents were already half-consumed by flames, their occupants put to the sword. “Ren!” she shouted, tearing through her belongings and shoving everything she could carry into a second pack. “Time to go!”_

_The small girl crept out from behind a crate, her bright blue eyes wide with terror. “Where’s_ pater _?” she asked, clutching her dagger._

_“He’s on his way,” Kes lied, scooping her daughter up. “But we have to go. Mr. Ignatius is waiting for us.”_

_Renata nodded, wrapping her tiny arms around Kestrel’s shoulders. They fled into the night, headed for the far edge of camp where a handful of_ f rumentarii _waited, dressed as wastelanders._

_“Are you the only ones left?” Kes asked, her grey eyes narrowed at the men._

_“No,” replied Ignatius, offering her his arms. Kes handed him Renata, and the doctor heaved the girl onto his broad shoulders. “The others scattered to the winds, leaving false trails. They’ll catch up once it’s safe.”_

_“Then we should get moving,” Kestrel said, “or those trails won’t fool anyone, even a prick like Lanius.” She took one more look back towards the camp, seeking a vision of the battle beyond but unable to see past the smoke. Her heart heavy, she turned towards the east, towards the wilderness that would swallow them up in its expanse once again. Vulpes' wishes had been clear. They would not stop running, this time. Not until they had been forgotten._

 

* * *

 

“You have no idea what we’ve been through,” Kestrel continued, “or what we’ve lost. And you have no idea what we’re willing to do to survive. So either let me go, or know that any damage my men cause is on your head.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, this chapter's really short...but I'm uploading the first chapter of the main story's second part today, too, so I hope that you'll read that as well. 
> 
> It's weird writing framed flashbacks since they're all out of order and I'm skipping a lot of the story. These are, after all, just moments in time, snapshots from Kestrel's journey. Maybe someday I'll write a really involved New Vegas fanfic and really go into her relationship with everyone's favorite cunning fox. The goal with this piece is just to get a taste of that.


	4. Chapter 4

“Threaten me as much as you want,” Preston replied. “The fact remains that you don’t have the numbers you claim to have. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.”

“You’ll find my lies are always believable,” Kes retorted with a smirk. “Care to check the men you’ve captured again? I’ll wait.”

Preston nodded to one of his minutemen, who walked down the line of captured men, looking at each one carefully. As he bent down to take a closer look at one of the prisoners, the minuteman let out a cry of alarm. “Sir! You should take a look at this.”

The Colonel frowned as he approached the man. There, partially hidden by the cloak he wore, was a metal collar, its explosive charge active. The man looked up at Preston with pleading eyes. “Check the others for collars,” Preston commanded. “I need to know how many of these men are here against their will.”

“All of them,” the man said after he finished his check. “All four of them are wearing explosive collars.”

Preston turned to Kestrel in alarm. “Where’s the detonator?”

“It’s safe. As is Sanctuary, as long as you let me go. I’d hate to see innocent people suffer because you couldn’t admit I’d beaten you.”

Preston sighed. “So what do you want, Kestrel? Why go through all this trouble just to toy with us?”

 

* * *

 

**Six Years Prior, Fortification Hill**

 

_“Why are you going through all this trouble just to toy with me, Vulpes?” Kestrel cried angrily, pinning the man against the rock face. Half a dozen blades were drawn at once as a group of legionnaires surrounded her._

_Vulpes waved them off casually. “I can handle one woman, don’t you think?” he said calmly. The men nodded, continuing on their way. He turned back to her, his gaze intense and curious. “Now, Courier, why exactly are you so upset? I only did precisely what I told you I was going to.”_

_“You said I would still have my freedom if I came with you,” she hissed._

_“And here you are, not in chains. Would you prefer it were otherwise? Believe me, nothing would bring me greater pleasure. But, unfortunately,” he added with a sigh, “I have my orders. For whatever reason, mighty Caesar has decreed that you are to have the same rights as any man who does his will. And who am I to question him?”_

_“It’s blackmail,” Kes snarled. “You and I both know that the second I decide not to follow Caesar’s orders, it’s off to the slave pens with me, to be worked to death or sold to some officer or another.” She shook her head. “I’m not an idiot. I can read the writing on the wall.”_

_Vulpes grinned, sweeping a leg out towards hers. In a moment, he unbalanced her, using the momentum to gain the dominant position, pinning her to the rock in his place. “Lest you forget, I’m one of those officers,” he mused. “You should be so fortunate.”_

_Kestrel grimaced. “If you really think I would ever...You should have just let those men in Freeside kill me.”_

_“Perhaps I should have,” he replied coldly, letting her up. “But is serving Caesar’s will really so repugnant? Think about it. NCR has no place in the Mojave. They don’t understand it. They fear everything they cannot control. The Legion is different. We understand the world as it is now, and we have adapted to it. Even you once told me how you admired the purity of our justice. That is what this world needs, not fancy words that ultimately mean nothing. Surely you must see by now that civilization as it was cannot be saved. It must be reborn. That is what Caesar truly seeks. Is that truly such a terrible goal?”_

_“I suppose not,” Kestrel replied, dusting herself off, “but what about the Legion’s methods? You can’t possibly expect me to agree that slaughter and slavery are right.”_

_“To kill a tiger, one must sometimes be willing to cover himself in stripes,” Vulpes said, gesturing towards the gate to the outer fort. “Come. I want to show you something.”_

_Kestrel snorted in derision as she followed him. “Stripes? What the hell does that even mean?”_

_“This world is wicked,” Vulpes continued as they walked towards an outcropping next to the stairs. “If left unchecked, the degenerates who populate the wasteland will destroy everything we are trying to build. Kindness and gentleness alone cannot withstand it. So to fight the wickedness of the world, wicked men and means must sometimes be employed.”_

_“Wicked men like you?” Kes asked._

_Vulpes nodded, turning back to look at her. His eyes were cold as ever, yet there was a hint of something akin to humanity in them that Kes had never seen in him before. “Like me,” he agreed. “I am not so naive to believe that I deserve anything good in my life. I am a tool, carefully honed for a specific purpose, made to be used and then discarded when I am no longer useful. I am not a good man. But I certainly will do everything in my power to help the cause of a great one.”_

_Kestrel frowned. “Well, that’s a pretty shitty existence, don’t you think? Why sacrifice yourself for someone who you know is only using you?”_

_“You’re one to talk, Courier,” Vulpes replied. “Look here.” He gestured to the wastes beyond._

_From the overlook, Kes could see for miles in every direction, the towns and ruins she had grown familiar with laid out before her, nearly lost in the desert sands. It reminded her of one of Mr. House’s stupid snow-globes, a world small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. She had never seen the Mojave from this far removed, she realized. Even in New Vegas, she had been in the middle of it all, the concerns of her companions and the various people who came to her for help making such detachment impossible. It was a different world here, though. And for the first time, she began to understand how very small her world was. More than that, she realized how very small she was._

_“You act as if there is a single force in the Mojave who is not trying to rally your support,” Vulpes continued. “Do you think their intentions are any purer than ours? Mr. House would make you his figurehead, a desert bird trapped in a gilded cage. NCR would have you believe that they are the ‘good guys,’ but their form of slavery is merely more subtle than most. They claim to represent freedom even as they clap the people of the Mojave in chains. They would break you, change you into something you are not. Caesar values you, the unique gifts you bring with you. Never will we ask you to change who and what you are. You have to admit that there is honor in that.”_

_Kestrel frowned, her eyes focused on the far horizon. “But I’m just one woman. Not even a very important one. I’m just a courier. Why do any of you give a shit about my opinion?”_

_Vulpes sighed. “And I was just a child from a weak and insignificant tribe, before circumstances and the efforts of powerful men made me something more. The same is true for you. You cannot return to nothingness now, Courier. Whether you like it or not, fate has chosen you to shape this wasteland. The question is, in whose image will you shape it?”_

_Kes thought for a moment, her grey eyes sweeping over the tents of Caesar’s camp below, the savage order of it all. Finally, she nodded. “I suppose you’ve got a point. No matter who I side with, I’m a slave. So it comes down to what form of slavery I’m most comfortable with.”_

_“Exactly,” Vulpes replied. “And which master is most worthy of your service.”_

_“Then, at least for now, I suppose that’s the Legion,” she murmured, turning to look at the spymaster. “You’re right. The world that was is lost. It’s foolish to try and bring it back to life. But I need you to promise me something, Vulpes.”_

_“What would you ask of me?” he replied softly, his intense gaze pinning her as surely as if she were still pressed against the rock wall._

_“If Caesar turns on me, if he sends me to the slave pens...promise me that you won’t let that happen. Kill me, if you have to.”_  
  
_He smirked slightly at her. “You’re offering me your death? If I kill you, Courier, it won’t be quick or painless. You realize that.”_

_“All the same…” she trailed off, looking past him as she tried to find the right words. “I guess since you saved my life, you’re the closest thing to a friend I have in the Legion. And the kind of man you are, I know you’d follow through. So if it comes down to it, promise me.”_

_Vulpes nodded solemnly. “Very well, Courier. As of this moment, your death belongs to me. But I hope you realize that you’ve overlooked something very important.”_

_Kestrel’s mind raced as she tried to understand what he was saying. She stared at him in confusion. “What’s that?” she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer._

_Vulpes grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. Before she had a chance to correct herself, Kes found herself pressed against the spymaster, his lips on hers. She stiffened at the unexpected sensation, irritated and shocked at his actions. With her free hand, she slapped him as hard as she could._

_He pulled back, smiling fiercely at her. “You’re foolish, Courier. You cannot offer someone your death without also offering them your life. Whether you like it or not, you belong to me now.”_

_“You bastard!” she hissed. “You played me!”_

_He shook his head. “I taught you a lesson. As I said, everyone has their own agendas in this world. Everyone will take advantage of you, if you let them.” Vulpes released her wrist. “So don’t let them. Or, if you are able, take advantage of them in kind.”_

_  
Kestrel stared at the man who’d just kissed her in surprise. What was Vulpes suggesting? That she use him as well? Of course, she realized, there were certain advantages that would come with her current predicament. As long as she belonged to Vulpes, she was untouchable. If she were already his, no one could force her to belong to another. Vulpes wasn’t forcing her to serve him. He was offering her the closest thing to freedom that she was likely to have. _

_Suddenly, the rest of their conversation made sense. Kes nodded, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him into another kiss, intense and violent as the wasteland below them. She gasped in pain as her back collided with the rock face behind the outcropping as Vulpes pinned her to the formation with his torso. He forced one leg between hers as he moaned slightly against her lips. He pulled his mouth from hers, nipping at her neck before pressing his lips to her ear._

_“Well done,” Vulpes whispered, his hot breath prickling her sensitive skin. “You’re a fast learner, Courier.”_

_“Yeah?” she gasped. “Then how come I’m the one trapped?”_

_He pulled away from her, amusement illuminating his blue eyes. “Remember this. Anyone can appear strong. The secret to true power is learning how to appear weak. Let your enemy think they’ve won. They will never see the trap coming until it is too late.”_

 

* * *

 

“I’m not here to toy with you, Colonel,” Kestrel replied calmly. “I’m here to offer our services. Your intelligence network is pitiful, if you don’t mind me saying so. Hell, even if you do mind me saying so. Your borders are terribly defended, your men spread thin protecting worthless farmers who won’t even stand up for themselves. And don’t get me started on your resource management. Frankly, I’m amazed your people have survived this long.”

“So this was, what, an audition?” Preston asked, his eyes narrowed. “There are easier ways to prove your point than to hold Sanctuary hostage.”

“Easier, yes. But not nearly as effective.” Kestrel grinned coldly up at him. “We have skills you desperately need, that we would be willing to offer you. All we ask in exchange is a home to call our own, and the promise that we will be allowed to maintain our independence, to follow our own laws in our territory as long as we keep the Minutemen in power.”

“How do we know you won’t betray us?” Preston retorted.

Kestrel sighed. “You don’t, Colonel. But what choice do you really have?”


	5. Chapter 5

“Let her go,” Preston commanded with a sigh. “But keep the girl locked up for now.”

Kestrel scowled at him as her hands were untied. “Keeping a child for collateral, Colonel? Seems like the Minutemen have some balls after all. Maybe I was wrong about you.”

Preston frowned. “If you’re serious about helping us, I’ve got a perfect mission in mind for you. There’s an old relay station north of here, Outpost Zimonja, that’s been overrun by raiders. I want you to take control of the site, then report back to me. If you can do all that, we might have a deal.”

Kes nodded. “Ok, Colonel. Just promise me that no harm will come to Renata or any of my men while I’m gone. If one hair on their heads is out of place when I get back, I won’t hesitate to order the detonation of those collars.”

“I promise I’ll keep that in mind,” Preston muttered, handing the woman her belongings.

Kes checked her pack carefully. Nothing was missing. Good. She smiled over at her daughter. “It’ll be ok, Ren. I promise.”

“Mater, no!” the girl cried. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’ll be back soon, little one. I’ll always protect you.”

With that, the woman hopped over the edge of the cliff to the next rock formation below. She looked up at the settlement one last time, a slight smile playing about her lips, before turning north towards the outpost.

“Everything’s going according to plan,” she murmured.

 

* * *

  


**Five Years Prior, Mesa Verde:**

 

 _The long arm of the NCR, armed with Lanius’ vengeful blade, had never stopped pursuing Vulpes’ remnants. The few_ contubernia _that had remained loyal to Caesar’s spymaster had dwindled, each attack costing the renegades precious men._

 _This latest attack had been one of the bloodiest, perpetuated by one of Vulpes’ own agents. The man had been on watch, guarding the one road that led up the mesa to what had been an excellent defensive position. In the dead of the night, Cassius had stood by, letting Lanius’ men silently into the_ f rumentarii _camp. Nearly a dozen men were lost before the battle for the mesa had even begun. Now, of the 40 men who had bedded down among the ancient ruins, only 15 remained._

_Kestrel stood beneath the foot of a cross, staring up at Cassius with contempt. She held her hand up, the appendage dripping with the blood of the slain, and carefully painted a number 6 on the man’s quivering flesh._

_“This traitor will serve as a warning to those who would destroy us,” Vulpes said, addressing the remnants of Caesar’s_ frumentarii _. “We may be few, but they have merely culled the weak. Should any more traitors or their profligate allies seek to bring us further harm, they will well know the true horror that awaits them. For now, we will move on, and continue east.”_

_As the handful of men prepared to strike camp, their fearsome leader turned to Kestrel, concern on his face. “They did not injure you, did they?”_

_She shook her head slightly, her whole body shaking as adrenaline faded into shock. “I’m fine, Vulpes. I’m just...” Her eyes widened in shock as she fell to her knees, heaving. What little remained in her stomach from the night before was soon lost, and she grimaced as bile burned her throat._

_Vulpes frowned. “It’s not like you to be so weak at the sight of blood,_ Inhumata _. If I did not know you as well, I might think that you were going soft.”_

_Kes looked up at him, her face pale. “It’s not the blood. I...I don’t feel well.”_

_“Alerio!” barked the spymaster at one of his passing agents. “Bring Ignatius. Something is wrong with the Courier.”_

_The man frowned. “Of course there is. She’s a woman. She has no business in battle. You know as well as I do that she never --”_

_Vulpes rounded on the shorter man, his eyes burning with calm intensity. “Caesar himself declared that she has the soul of a man, as worthy to fight for him as any other. And you would question his judgement?”_

_Alerio shook his head. “No, of course not. I merely --”_

_“Enough. Bring me Ignatius, now,” Vulpes said softly._

_The man disappeared into a nearby tent, his eyes on the ground. Vulpes sighed, crouching beside Kestrel. She smiled weakly at him. “Thanks.”_

_Vulpes frowned. “You have to be more careful. Never let them see weakness in you, or they will devour you.”_

_“Let them try,” Kes replied, struggling to stand. “I’m more than a match for them. Haven’t I proved that by now?”_

_“Whoa! Hey, easy,” called a large, muscular man, running from the medical tent. He offered her an arm, trying to stabilize her. “No offense, Kestrel, but you look terrible.”_

_“Gee, thanks Ignatius,” Kestrel moaned. “I don’t feel too great either.”_

_“Have you had any unusual bleeding?” the doctor asked, his brown eyes sweeping over her. “Anything to indicate that your child is unwell?”_

_Kestrel shook her head, avoiding eye contact with both men._

_“You’re with child?” Vulpes asked, his normally calm voice cracking slightly with alarm._

_“You haven’t told him yet?” Ignatius exclaimed. “Damn it, Kes, I told you to let him know as soon as we were sure.”_

_“It...it just never came up,” she replied lamely. “I kept meaning to, I just…”_

_Vulpes sighed. “You thought I’d send you away, is that correct?”_

_She nodded. “I know that it’s not safe for me to be here. But where else am I going to go?”_

_Vulpes frowned slightly before drawing her close, continuing to check her for any sign of injury. Once he was satisfied that she was truly uninjured, he pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head gently._

_A shudder coursed through the Courier’s body at the unexpected tenderness of his actions. This wasn’t how things were between them. In all the times they’d been together, the collision of their bodies had been a battle, brutal and fierce as the wastes that had birthed them, a fight to the bitter end. This was...something new, something Kes had never known she wanted, and certainly never thought she deserved._

_“Vulpes, I…” she started to say, but he shushed her, pulling away to study her bloodstained face._

_“This child,” he said, his nimble fingers softly touching her belly, “our enemies will never stop hunting it. Lanius fears me, and he is right to fear me. But he will fear this...my child more. We will have to head much further east, as far from Legion territory as we can.”_

_“But what about your plans? What about retaking the Legion?” Kes asked._

_Vulpes shook his head. “I’m afraid we don’t have the popular support we need to overthrow Lanius. This latest attack proved it. Even my own men...I will not risk our child in a war we cannot currently win. And I know full well that I won’t be able to convince you to stay behind.”_

_“Damn straight,” Kestrel replied. “Now that the NCR knows for certain that I’ve sided with you, I’m out of bridges. Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”_

 

* * *

 

Kestrel groaned in frustration as she threw herself behind a boulder. Of course, the site Preston had sent her to had been more dangerous than he’d let on, or the Minutemen would have taken it for themselves already. But she hadn’t been anticipating a raider in power armor, armed with a fucking Fat Man. Hell, the Boomers had been easier to deal with than this guy was.

Still, time and experience had been good masters to her, and she knew that a man who felt he needed that much protection was probably also very easy to frighten. While she may have been on her own, Kes had learned a few tricks over the years. Once she sprung her trap, the man below would be convinced that he was hopelessly outgunned.

She pressed a button at her hip, and was instantly rewarded with the sound of gunfire from all sides as a dozen pressure plates were released, firing a dozen weapons into the outpost. The raiders cried in alarm as torches flared to life around them one by one, ignited by carefully placed fuses. It was a classic piece of psychological warfare for a reason, and one of Vulpes’ old favorites. Kes whispered a thank you to the lost spymaster as she stalked down the hill, creeping up behind the armored raider boss. In a matter of seconds, she extracted his fusion core, spilling the man out onto the ground. He stared up at her in horror and disbelief as she leered at him, her grey eyes bright with bloodlust.

“Hello, dead man,” Kestrel said with a grin, her foot on his neck. She pressed down slowly, watching the raider boss struggle under her boot, his face darkening. His gurgled cries of protest filled her ears, and she gazed down at him in disdain.

“Well, you’re not even worth wasting a bullet on, are you?” she mused with a sigh. “A shame.” She pulled her foot off his neck, and the man gasped for air like a dying fish. “Look, asshole. I’ll give you a choice. I can kill you right here and put you out of your misery, or you can go over to Tenpines and beg the Minutemen for your life. I won’t promise you they’ll listen, but…”

“You crazy bitch!” the man snarled, his voice raspy. “I’ll kill you!”

Kestrel shook her head with a sad sigh, shooting the raider in the chest three times. The man convulsed as the bullets pierced his unprotected flesh. “Sorry, pal,” she said softly as the life left his eyes, “but I’m saving that for someone special.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kestrel returned to Tenpines, a heavy sack in her hand. As she approached, Preston dashed over to her eagerly.

“Did you secure the outpost?” he asked.

She nodded, tossing the bag at his feet. He opened it carefully. His eyes widened in horror and he dropped the sack, crying out in disgust as a head rolled from the parcel.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed. “I didn’t ask you for a trophy.”

Kestrel smirked. “What? I thought you might want proof. It’s how things are done back home.”

“Well, we don’t do that here,” Preston muttered. “And if you’re going to be working for me, we need to get that straight. I’m not a fan of body parts. If you want to bring me a trophy, make it armor or something. That’s just...nasty.”

Kes sighed. “Fine. There’s no good pikes here to put it on anyway.” She punted the head off the cliff with a swift kick. “So I did the job. Are you satisfied?”

Preston nodded. “We might not agree on your...methods, but I took some time to think while you were gone. If you’re serious about helping us…” He trailed off, his warm brown eyes meeting hers. “But we need some ground rules.”

Kestrel smiled. “Like what?”

“First, as long as you’re working for me, you and your men need to follow Minuteman laws. That means no immoral tactics unless you have no other choice. We’re supposed to be the good guys. I can’t have a group of terrorists causing mayhem in our territory. People wouldn’t like that.”

“That’s fair,” Kes replied. “But in exchange, my Foxes need autonomy. They won’t take kindly to orders from someone like you. It took me years to earn their respect, and even now I have to watch my back sometimes. They’ll report directly to me.”

“Ok,” said Preston, “but only if you agree to take any job I ask you to do.”

Kestrel nodded. “We’re used to that sort of arrangement. Now, I want to talk about territory. In our own settlements, we will operate under our own laws, and punish offenders our own way. Also, we want control of at least three settlements.”

Preston shook his head. “Let’s start with one. If you prove as useful to us as you say you will, we can add to that.”

"Fine," she replied, "but I want the Outpost.”

The Colonel nodded. “That will be fine. No one lives there right now, so we wouldn’t have to relocate anyone.”

Kestrel smiled, offering him her hand. “Well, then, I suppose we have a deal.” She turned to the messengers. “Corvus, Alerio, please untie the others.”

The men walked over to the collared prisoners, cutting their bonds.

“About damn time, Kes,” one of them hissed, pulling the collar from his neck.

“Shut up, Cato,” Kestrel replied. “I told you I’d make it work.”

Preston stared in confusion as the remaining men pulled their collars off, throwing the devices to the ground. “What the hell is going on?” he asked.

Kestrel grabbed one of the collars, bringing it over to him. “It’s quite easy to rewire these slave collars to light up, actually,” she mused. “Then, the rest was just letting you see what we wanted you to see.”

“What about Sanctuary? The other Foxes?”

She shook her head. “We’ve never made it past the gate. Your guard there is to be commended. He’s got a great eye for trouble.”

Preston stared at her in disbelief, his eyes slowly widening in realization as the ramifications of her words sunk in. “So, there really are only seven of you. And you were all here. The whole time.”

Kestrel chuckled. “Yep. One of my better schemes, I’ve got to admit.”

“I just can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” Preston muttered. “Seriously, you’re good. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Kestrel snorted softly. “Well, Colonel, let me just make one thing clear. I’m not on your side. I’m on the side of my men. Don’t forget that. I might be working for you, but I’m loyal only to them. If it becomes more convenient for us to have you out of the way, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Preston smiled gently at her. “Well, then I guess it’s in my best interest to keep you happy, huh?”

They looked at each other for a long moment before laughter overcame them. Neither noticed the strange looks their troops gave them as they lost themselves in the absurdity of their situation.

Kestrel, breathless from laughter, looked over at her daughter, resting high on Ignatius’ broad shoulders as though preparing to ride the large man into battle. Renata grinned at her mother, her beautiful blue eyes shining with mirth as she rested her elbows on top of the doctor’s head, her chin cupped in her small hands. Those eyes made Kestrel’s heart skip. They were so like Ren’s father’s eyes, yet so different. They shared the same hue, the same fierce intelligence, but there was still an innocence to them. Renata had no guile in her, not like her parents. And Kes would do everything she could to keep her safe, so she would never lose that light.

Her mind, as it often did, drifted west, towards Vulpes. Was he even still alive? Somehow, Kes doubted it. After all, if he’d survived the attack on their camp, wouldn’t he have tracked them down by now? No, the man she knew was gone.

She looked towards the setting sun, her heart heavy. Kestrel knew that she hadn’t loved him. There had been no room for love between them, only fire. Only...

Her legs gave out beneath her, and Kestrel dropped to her knees, a strangled sob escaping from her throat. She hadn’t loved him. Who could love a man like Vulpes, after all? No one would be that stupid.

“Kes?” asked Cato, crouching beside her. “Kestrel, are you all right?”

She sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her eye. “I’m fine. Just...”

Cato nodded, offering her a handkerchief. “I miss that bastard too,” he muttered, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll rebuild, Kestrel. And when we’re strong again, we’ll head home and crush Lanius. I promise.”

Kestrel nodded. Killing that masked monster wouldn’t bring Vulpes back. But it sure as hell would be satisfying. “For everyone we’ve lost,” she murmured. “He’ll pay a thousand times over.”

“That’s the spirit,” Cato replied, helping her to her feet. “But for now, let’s go home.”

Kestrel couldn’t help but smile at that. Home. It was a concept she thought she’d never see realized again. But here, in this strange new country, maybe she finally had a chance to have it again.

“Foxes!” she cried, “Let’s go...let's go home. We have a lot of work to do come morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> This won't read as smoothly or have chapters as long as my main story, I'm afraid, because it's meant to just be short glimpses into Kestrel's life before her arrival in the Commonwealth. I thought this would be a fun way to introduce her character, since she and the Foxes (frumentarii remnants posing as raiders) are an important part of the story in the next few sections of "The Rogue Variable." Also, the shorter chapters give me more time to prep the main story, so there's that.


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